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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699673">Goodnight, Beloved</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight_rain/pseuds/moonlight_rain'>moonlight_rain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goodnight, Beloved [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Family Issues, Forbidden, Forbidden Love, and you love to see it, azriel being a cute uncle, elain goes feral, not really anything happy tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:15:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight_rain/pseuds/moonlight_rain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elain discovers why Azriel has been avoiding her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elain Archeron/Azriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goodnight, Beloved [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2248368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Goodnight, Beloved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Azriel silently huffed in slight annoyance as Nesta shot Cassian a short, knowing look over her shoulder as she strolled leisurely out of the room, clad in her leathers to meet Emerie and Gwyn for their own training. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for his brother, and Nesta was a friend, but he would be happy for one simple moment where he wasn’t reminded of his loneliness. </p><p>He stood up and the house cleared away his plate and utensils without him even blinking, he muttered a gentle thank you and stepped away from the table. Cassian loudly scraped his chair backwards as the house cleared the remnants of his breakfast away. Azriel went to move towards the door, but Cassian clearly had other plans for him. </p><p>“You haven't been down to visit Nyx,” he stated, causing him to halt in the doorway. Azriel turned to see Cassian standing with his arms folded against his chest. Az almost scoffed. </p><p>“Yes, I have.” No, he hadn’t. But there was no way Cassian could prove that. He hadn’t for reasons Cassian didn’t know, couldn’t know. The same reasons why he didn’t attend family dinners as much, why Solstice had been near torturous. But like he said, Cassian didn’t know. </p><p>“Not since I went down there.” </p><p>“So?” </p><p>“So, I haven’t visited in a while either!” Cassian exclaimed, and he dropped his hands at his side. Azriel hummed. “We’ll visit later today.” </p><p>“I can’t.” </p><p>“What— you got a mission I don’t know about?” Azriel didn’t say anything. Cassian scoffed. “You can spend one afternoon with your nephew, can’t you?” Azriel set his jaw, and considered it. It had been a good few months since Nyx was born. He should have been visiting more. “Come on. I’ve got to help Nes with some Valkyrie shit. Afterwards, we’ll go together.” </p><p>“Bringing <em> Nes </em> with you too?” Azriel replied. He knew it was bitter. He didn’t care. Cassian’s wings rustled, most likely at his tone directed towards his mate. </p><p>“Azriel—” </p><p>“I’ll go on my own,” he said, cutting off his brother before stalking out of the room. </p><p>“Today?” Cassian called after him, but Azriel stepped out onto the balcony, spread out his wings and launched into the sky. </p><p>He returned to the House of Wind in the afternoon, settling onto the rooftop training ring, where Emerie, Mor and Gwyn were arranged on the chairs, drinking skeins of water. Mor grinned fiendishly at him as he approached. She turned to fully face him. Gwyn lounged in one of the chairs, and Emerie stood a few feet from her. </p><p>“Come to give a lesson?” Mor said, “I’m afraid I already stole your thunder.” His shadows scattered at her voice, it’s golden tenor under laced with confidence. </p><p>“How unfortunate,” Azriel replied evenly. The usual butterflies he got when Mor spoke to him had dissipated almost a year ago, an awful twisting feeling now remained a constant presence in its place. “I do hope she treated you both well,” he continued, glancing at Emerie, and then looking at Gwyn, the necklace around her neck and the hand that was now toying with it. Without trying, he could see another neck wearing it, another hand at her throat. He looked away from her, his gut twisting even more.</p><p>“<em> Very </em> well,” Gwyn interjected, shooting Emerie a very pointed look. Emerie’s back only straightened. </p><p>“I thought it was time that these lovely ladies got a proper warrior to teach a thing or two, Azriel, but I would never think to impose.” He simply inclined his head. “Cassian said that you were going down to the River Estate this afternoon.” </p><p>“Cassian would be mistaken,” Az replied, “I plan to go soon, however.” Mor hummed. </p><p>“We can go now?” She said, tilting her head to the side. “I wanted to visit Nyx once before I got all cleaned up. I need your help to get out of this place anyway.” Azriel could never refuse her, and she knew that. After all these years, she had to know that. His shadows swirled around his hands, and he just nodded once more. </p><p>“Of course.” </p><p>“Be more excited to see your nephew, Az,” Gwyn said. Azriel huffed out a short laugh. She never hesitated from setting him straight, and to be honest he had appreciated that the past few months, her friendship and companionship. He was bitter, and alone, and it just became more and more painful each day. </p><p>“I am excited.” </p><p>“Don’t look it,” Emerie chimed in. Azriel set his jaw, and could feel Mor’s eyes on him, assessing him with that truthful gaze of hers. He ignored Emerie’s jab and turned towards Mor, held out one of his scarred hands to her, shadows crowded around it. Mor stepped closer and Azriel picked her up into his arms, spreading out his swings to soar up into the sky, past the House’s barriers, Mor clutched him a little tighter as she winnowed them to the River estate. </p><p>They stood in Elain’s garden, and though it was empty, he felt like if he turned she would be there on her knees, tending to the garden she loved so dearly. He set Mor on the ground, and then held his hands behind his back as he walked wordlessly inside beside her. Mor didn’t say anything to him, and maybe it was because she could tell. Whatever reason, he was glad for it. </p><p>“Az!” Cassian yelled, and Azriel’s stomach sank. “I’m so glad you came.” Nyx was in one of Cassian’s arms, and Nesta was standing beside him, one of her hands on that very same arm, like she half expected Cassian to drop the child. Azriel smiled at the image. </p><p>“This mean you’ll actually stay for dinner this time?” Az stiffened at Rhys’ voice behind him. </p><p>“I—” and maybe Cassian could tell he was about to object and say he had other things to attend to, because then the small child was being shoved towards him, Nesta’s face scrunched up with anxiety.</p><p>“Hold the baby, Az,” </p><p>“Cassian—” Nesta interjected, but Cassian easily ignored her. </p><p>“Hold the baby.” Azriel quickly took the half-falling child from Cassian’s arm, cradling its head carefully. </p><p>“You’re going to drop it one of these days,” Nesta muttered under her breath, sagging against Cassian’s arm, probably from relief that he was no longer holding him. Cassian hummed and wrapped an arm around her, holding her close against his body. Azriel tore his gaze from them, and looked down at the small baby in his arms. His shadows seemed to dissipate. Nyx reached out a hand as if to grab one of them. Azriel couldn’t help the gentle smile that came to his lips. That awful twist in his gut untangled itself just the smallest bit. </p><p>“Come to dinner, Az,” Rhys said softly. Azriel turned to face his brother, the gentle look on his face. Az looked down at the baby again, the squishy cheeks, the way that he was still grasping at the faint shadows around him. </p><p>“Of course,” he answered, as though nothing had ever been wrong at all.</p><p>His shadows reported, like an instinct, that Nuala, Cerridwen, and Elain were all in the kitchen preparing dinner. If he concentrated, he bet that he could figure out what they were saying, hear their voices, one voice in particular. But Nyx was a good distraction. His family were all talking and laughing amongst one another in the sitting room as Azriel sat on a chair in the corner, the baby in his lap, half asleep, blinking only a few times as one of his shadows moved above him. </p><p>“How come he’s never that calm with me?” Cassian loudly asked, gesturing towards Azriel. His shadows swarmed in response to the callout, not expecting the turn of the conversation onto him. A shallow giggle erupted from Nyx in response. </p><p>“Probably because you are always one misstep from dropping him,” Nesta snapped. Cassian loudly scoffed, shaking his head as though he couldn’t even believe that. </p><p>“You are reckless with the babe,” Amren stated from where she sat, perched on Varian’s lap. Mor hummed in agreement. </p><p>“Since when did it become hate on Cassian day?” </p><p>“Since you nearly dented the child’s head, Cassian,” Mor said tiredly, draping her hand across the arm of the chair she was sitting at. </p><p>“It’s fine,” Casian said, waving his hand in the air. </p><p>“He only thinks that because he was dropped on his head one too many times,” Nesta drawled. The corners of Azriel’s mouth turned upwards. Cassian loudly scoffed and he shot her a playful glare. </p><p>“You’ll pay for that later.” Nesta hummed, tilting her head to the side. </p><p>“Will I?” Rhys snorted, choking slightly on his drink. Cassian scoffed. </p><p>“Don’t listen to him, Nesta,” Azriel said, his voice quiet as the night, “he’s all talk.” Mor laughed as Cassian shot him a deadpan look. </p><p>“He’ll get tired of you,” Cassian predicted, leaning back into the couch, “he's already falling asleep.” </p><p>“That’s a <em> good </em> thing,” Nesta said. Cassian waved her off. </p><p>“Cassian, your lack of knowledge when it concerns children, is frankly concerning,” Rhys said. </p><p>“I know about kids, I’ve trained plenty of them.” </p><p>“Training them is not raising them.” Cassian shrugged, like he didn’t care about the difference. Azriel pressed his lips together, thinking of some other retort he could throw Cassian’s way. But his shadows whispered in his ears. Frantic. Not in fear, he knew the tone well at this point. </p><p>
  <em> Sunlight.  </em>
</p><p><em> Sunlight. </em> </p><p>Azriel shivered slightly, and they dissipated, but then there she was. Elain stood in the doorway, Nuala on her arm, a bright smile on her lovely face. Her dress was flowy, and light pink, almost white, the color of clouds at sunrise. Azriel wished he could bring them to her, that he could bring the whole world to her. </p><p> Nuala was giggling about something, Azriel had never seen her giggle, not since before Under the Mountain at least. He supposed that if anyone could bring a smile to the lips of someone who hardly ever had one, it would be Elain. She’d done it to him too. </p><p>“Dinner’s ready,” Elain declared to the room, and then Nuala said something in Elain’s ear that even Azriel could not pick up on, and Elain bit her lip to contain a laugh and they turned away, whispering to each other once more. He couldn’t help but stare after where she’d stood, like if he concentrated on it long enough she’d return. He swallowed thickly, knowing that Rhys’ eyes were boring into his skull. He looked down at the child in his arms again. He was still grasping for the shadows. Instead, Azriel held out his hand, and Nyx wrapped his small fingers around Az’s pinky finger. He supposed he was too young to note the brutality of his touch, and Az secretly hoped he never would. He wanted at least one respite if he could have it. Just one. </p><p>He watched everyone file out, talking to one another merrily before Azriel stood up, holding the child to his chest. Rhys paused a second, and Feyre glanced at him in confusion, but Rhys must’ve assured her of something down the bond because she too walked down the hall with the others. </p><p>“Do you want him back?” Azriel said, feigning innocence. Rhys didn’t say anything for a second, neither did Azriel. In these battles, and in most, he would always win. </p><p>“I told you that—” </p><p>“I know what you told me,” Azriel snapped, his shadows crowding his body. “Am I not even allowed to look at her anymore?” Rhys looked to be considering answering no, and Azriel would die if he said that. If he couldn’t even glance at her and wish, the way Rhys had looked at the stars. Rhys then sighed, like he lost an internal battle</p><p>“Keep yourself in line, Az.” </p><p>“I’m not a rabid dog,” he said, keeping his voice quiet and controlled. </p><p>“Then don’t act like one in heat,” Rhys replied. Azriel was painfully aware of the fact that he was carrying a very small child in his arms, and resisted the urge to put him back into Rhys’ arms and fly away from here, far away from here. It had been a mistake to even try. </p><p>“Who do you think I am,” Az said, “do you think that low of me?” Rhys blinked. His shadows swirled, clinging to his skin, his neck and his arms. </p><p>“I don’t think low of you at all,” Rhys said in answering, his voice painfully soft, like Azriel was just as fragile and breakable as Nyx. He hated it. Hated the pity more than he hated his restrictions. </p><p>“Act like it then.” </p><p>“Az—” But Azriel turned, walking down the hallways, cradling Nyx’s soft head in one hand, his small body with the other. So fragile, so breakable. He walked to the end of the dining room where a small crib was, and he gently set him down on the soft blanket. He whined at the loss of warmth and Azriel pulled the blanket over him, putting one of the toys next to him. He heard Rhys take a seat behind him. No one ate anything. Az flicked his fingers and a few shadows flew over Nyx’s head. He giggled again, a small joyous thing. Az smiled again, that cord in him loosening. He stood straight and turned to see Cassian looking at him expectantly. Az raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“No one eats until everyone sits,” Elain said, her gentle voice firm in the conviction. Color bloomed high on his cheeks. </p><p>“Sorry,” he replied quietly, and looked for a seat. The only open one was beside Elain. Of course it was. It was where he always sat. He cleared his throat, not even daring to glance at Rhys as he strode across the room to her side and pulled out the chair. Across from him sat Nesta and Cassian. </p><p>Easily enough, the table erupted in conversation and the sounds of eating and drinking, loud, heart-rending laughter from one or the other. Azriel tried to enjoy it, he really did. He would never stop being thankful for the smiles of his brothers, the happiness that flowed from each of his ever expanding family, even Nesta now. He just wished that he had some of his own. To share with them. To give back what they so unconditionally gave. He knew he would never love as openly, as freely as any of them, but he wished that he could give something, anything back. </p><p>He pushed the food around on his plate, his appetite gone. Like his ability to sleep through the night. How much of himself would be lost in his self-pity? What would be next? </p><p>“Do you not like it?” Elain asked, turning her face to look at him. Azriel’s heart seized. He spared her a glance. </p><p>“I— I ate earlier,” he said feebly, “I didn’t know that I would be staying for dinner when I came.” </p><p>“Oh,” Elain said, “I thought— I thought maybe you’d come to more of them.” Azriel hated this. He hated this more than anything. He shouldn’t have ever touched her. He never should have gotten that close to her. Now it was somehow more unbearable than it ever had been, and worse, he felt like he was stuck. Stuck in this awful place where they weren’t even talking, like they weren’t even friends. Like it hadn’t felt as though the moon and stars had aligned for them that night. He should have just stayed away on solstice. Should never have even gotten her a gift at all, it had been a stupid hope to even dare.</p><p>“I want to,” Azriel said. That was true, he did want to come more, he wanted to see his family, his nephew, he wanted to see her. But he knew Rhys was listening. Careful. He had to be so damn careful. Maybe Elain could tell some reason that he wasn’t speaking of, some underlying secret, she didn’t press him. She turned to look at Nuala and Cerridwen, launching into a new conversation with them. Azriel wished he could’ve asked her about her garden, about the bandage on her wrist. He had been the one that was close with the twins, but now Elain was. He wondered if Rhys would punish him for talking to them as well. </p><p>He ground his teeth, and leaned back in his chair, stewing in his silence until most everyone’s plates were cleared. Elain and the twins went to stand to take everyone’s plate away, but Azriel stood. </p><p>“I can do it,” he said, picking up his own plate and reaching over for Elain’s, and setting it atop hers. As he did so, he could smell her jasmine and honey scent and his knees almost buckled. He quickly moved around the table— having to stop and just use his siphon magic to pick up the plates from around the table and usher them to the kitchen. </p><p><em> More </em>.</p><p><em> More </em>, his shadows begged. </p><p><em> Quiet </em>. He ordered them as he set the plates in the sink. His shadows did not seem to want to listen to him, probably because he too wanted more of her, which was irritating. He was tired of wanting, instead of having. He had wanted Mor for nearly five centuries, and now— he couldn’t even see himself with her. He wanted…. He stopped himself from even thinking it. He started cleaning the plates and cutlery, the simple task a welcome distraction. </p><p>“Do you need any help?” Elain questioned. He stilled. </p><p>“I can wash dishes, Elain,” Az said, not even glancing over his shoulder. It was some trigger, to dare to speak her name aloud. </p><p>
  <em> Elain.  </em>
</p><p><em> Elain, </em>his shadows repeated from where they hid in the corners of the room. </p><p>“I at least hoped that you would still talk to me like your friend,” Elain said to him, her voice quiet, “since that’s— that’s all you want.” Azriel left the water on, let it make noise against the plates and bowls. Let it mask some of the sounds. “Unless you don’t want that at—” </p><p>“Of course I still want to talk to you,” he said flatly, still not looking over his shoulder. He couldn't believe she was having this conversation with him right now. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could hear. Rhys could hear. Was he listening now? He crowded his shadows against the doorway, snuffing out any sound. “We can’t.” </p><p>“What do you mean <em> can’t </em>,” she replied, an edge of anger leaking into her tone, and sadness too. </p><p>“Elain,” he hissed, turning around finally. Her fists were balled at her sides. He gestured one hand out to the doorway. Towards their family. Rhys. </p><p>“When then?” Not so much a question as it was a demand. If these weren’t the circumstances— perhaps he would’ve been proud of her, proud of her boldness, her growth. He shook his head. They couldn’t. Being alone was— it was so dangerou. It was so wrong. So wrong. But then she nearly gave him a heart attack.“Why won’t you talk to me?” </p><p>“Elain, by the Cauldron,” he whispered in exasperation, “later.” She held his gaze, those unblinking hazel eyes he could melt into if he let himself. “Later,” he repeated to her. But still he looked at him, assessing  “Go back,” he instructed, a little louder, dissolving his shadows in case Rhys was listening,  “I can do the dishes.” </p>
<hr/><p>Elain ran a hand through Nuala’s long dark hair. Cerridwen was perched on the edge of Elain’s bed, her lips pursed as she looked through some reports she assumed were for Azriel. Elain tilted her head to the side and began to braid it along the side of her head. </p><p>“What’s happening out in the world, Wen?” Elain asked. Cerridwen hummed. </p><p>“Nothing interesting,” she mused. Her voice was close to what Elain could imagine one of those shadows that wreathed Azriel sounded like. Nuala spoke that way too, hushed and flat. Cold too. But Elain knew the hidden warmth in the twins, the quiet mischief. She’d found that many things that appeared dark and quiet, held their own beauty within them many did not bother to look at. “The Queens are up to something,” she continued, “unclear what it is.” </p><p>“Unclear?” Nuala said, “It's got something to with that bird queen. The death god that stopped by too, if you recall.” </p><p>“I could do without your tone,” Cerridwen replied coolly. Elain smirked. The way the twins bickered between themselves reminded her of Feyre and Nesta. “Elain— must you play hairdresser just before we’re meant to sleep?” </p><p>“If you are jealous, Cerridwen, I will gladly do you next.” </p><p>“She’s going to make me take it out you know— all your hard work for nothing.” Elain just shrugged. “Why were you going after Azriel tonight?” </p><p>“Cerridwen,” Nuala berated. </p><p>“What?” Cerridwen said, feigning ignorance. </p><p>“Don’t pretend like you were not listening,” Elain said, glancing up at her. Cerridwen looked at her like she was insane. </p><p>“Listening in on Azriel?” She put a hand to her neck. “No thank you, I like my life as it is.” Elain shook her head. </p><p>“He is not as scary as you think he is,” Elain said softly, adjusting herself to braid the length of Nuala’s hair.</p><p>“My lady, are you blind?” Cerridwen replied. Elain smiled. </p><p>“I can see quite well actually.” Nuala huffed out a short laugh. Cerridwen did not find it amusing, at least didn’t appear to, she wasn’t prone to joking, but Elain didn’t mind, she knew that deep down the female loved Elain and Nuala's attempts at humor.</p><p>“Are you quite finished? We have to get up early for work.” Elain sighed. </p><p>“I’m almost done.” </p><p>“You can’t rush perfection, sister,” Nuala said, stretching out her long, thin legs in front of her. Elain hummed in agreement, and the twins waited in calm silence for her to finish up Nuala’s braid. The kind of silence that Elain loved. The easy kind, between friends and family. When Elain finally tied it off, she grinned, and put it over Nuala’s shoulder. </p><p>“There you are,” she said proudly, “it should hold— even if you go to sleep. Make your hair all wavy the next day.” Nuala hummed. </p><p>“I just might go through with that.” </p><p>“You will look ridiculous.” </p><p>“Must you always ruin my fun?” Nuala said in exasperation. She stood up, and so did Cerridwen. Elain always hated when they left, leaving her alone. “Until next time, my lady.” They both disappeared into shadows before Elain could berate them for calling her that. And she was alone in the silence. The room all of a sudden felt too big. She sighed, wondering how much later ‘later’ was for the Shadowsinger, or if it had been a lie to get her to stop talking. She walked to the balcony in her room, and pushed open the doors, letting the air of the night waft through. She stepped out onto the balcony. It was cold, but she’d grown to not mind this kind of cold, the kind you could appreciate if you just got warm enough. She rested her wrists on the banister, looking out at the scenery around her, the distant sound of the Sidra, the way the wind blew through the grass. And far, far above, she could hear the flapping sound of great, membranous wings beating in the wind.</p><p> She tilted her head up towards the sky, the sound, and spotted a black figure, backlit from the moon. She tried to push down the urge to sigh, but couldn’t help it as she watched Azriel dive down, almost like he was free falling. He stopped a few yards up and flew down so that he was hovering near her balcony, before settling down behind her. He heard his wings rustle as he pulled them in tight behind his back. She turned once he had, mustering up the strength to keep her face neutral, to be able to look at him without feeling that searing pike in her gut. <em> This was a mistake </em>— it repeated in her head over and over and over again. </p><p>“I didn’t think you were coming.” </p><p>“I had to wait until you were alone— and that the other residents were… busy.” Elain’s cheeks reddened at the implication of his words. </p><p>“Why would it matter what Rhys and Feyre are doing?” </p><p>“You said you wanted to talk, like before,” his voice was lower than usual, more raspy, “what happened to your wrist?” Elain looked down at the wrapping around her wrist. She shook her head. </p><p>“I just sliced it by accident. It’ll be healed soon enough.” Azriel nodded, and she opened her mouth to continue talking, to tell him about what she was pruning that caused her to slice it. To tell him about the customers she’d had recently, insane orders and frustrating fae, but she didn’t. “<em> He </em> isn’t here,” she said softly, “why can you only talk to me in the middle of the night?” It had never been like that before. He’d never been this… cautious. “If you don’t want to be around me, Azriel, just say that. I have been…  turned away in much worse ways.” Azriel winced. </p><p>“This is the only way.” </p><p>“Why?” She was tired of asking that question. Tired of being clueless. Tired of being the person always last to know things. Never getting a say. </p><p>“It is not beneficial for the Night Court for…” he trailed off, and his eyes turned down to the floor of the balcony. “For me to be around you.” Elain blinked. “I never should have— Solstice never should have happened at all.” Elain could have argued that nothing happened on Solstice, but that pike in her gut grew hotter. <em> Never should have happened. Mistake. </em> She had been such a fool. Such a fool to think that Azriel would ever choose her, look past her bond with Lucien.  </p><p>“What would what happened on Solstice have to do with what is beneficial to the Night Court?” Azriel seemed to be at a loss for words, which was rare for him. </p><p>“It does not matter,” he said finally, “the fact remains that it is true.” </p><p>“I will decide whether or not something that affects my life matters.” Azriel inclined his head more. His shadows wreathed his neck and chest. </p><p>“If Lucien found out,” Azriel began, and Elain already hated what he was saying, “it could lead to an incredibly dangerous situation. You know that already.” She did. </p><p>“I can deal with Lucien,” she said, and she knew that her voice was shaking with some echo of deserpation. She just wanted Azriel, to be his friend at the least, and at the most? She just wanted him. More of him. Az nodded. </p><p>“I know you can,” his voice was soft, “it is his Court that is troublesome.” Elain turned away from him, tears threatening her eyes. “Rhysand doesn’t want any more war, Elain.” She stilled, and whipped her head around, and Elain could see something akin to regret in Azriel’s eyes. </p><p>“Is that what you have gathered? Or is that something Rhysand told you?” </p><p>“I—”</p><p>“Did he talk to you about this— about,” she vaguely gestured between them. He raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Us?” </p><p>“Did he?” She demanded. Azriel shook his head. </p><p>“It does not matter.” </p><p>“<em> Azriel </em>,” she pleaded. He shut his eyes, and muttered a prayer to the mother. </p><p>“Rhysand doesn’t want me to see you. He knows the problems it can cause. I agree with him,” but she heard the slight struggle over the last four words. Anger bubbled in Elain’s gut, melting the hot spire of humiliation and rejection. She balled her hands into fists. “Elain—” but she ignored him, and walked right back inside, slamming the doors shut before Azriel could follow her. </p><p>She went right through her big empty room into the hall, and with each step her anger grew and grew. She knew what her sister and Rhysand were doing in her room, and for once, she pushed past her human propriety and threw the door open. </p><p>“Get dressed,” She ordered, rather dramatically into the dark bedroom. She heard her sister’s short squeak, Rhys’ interrupted groan. She didn’t care. “We are going to have a conversation.” </p><p>“Elain,” Feyre hissed, waving her hand to make the faelights in the room glow dimly, “can this wait until <em> morning </em>?” </p><p>“It can not.” She channelled Nesta’s unwillingness to bend or break, making her back ramrod straight. Betrayal and hurt swirled in her chest, making her heart ache. “I will be in your study, join me as soon as you can.”  With that she marched from the room. </p><p>Rhys and Feyre joined her a few minutes after Elain fixed herself to sit down in one of the chairs around Rhys’ desk. The scent of arousal was still pungent from them and Elain couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks against her will. </p><p>“Did you have a vision?” Feyre asked. That only made Elain more angry, as though nothing could ever be important enough in Elain’s life for even <em> Feyre </em> to care about it. The two of them went to stand behind the desk. Elain looked at her sister’s mate. </p><p>“Did you order Azriel to stay away from me?” She questioned, going right for what she wanted to know. She dug her nails into the fabric of her dress. Feyre’s eyes widened, and she turned to Rhys. </p><p>“What exactly did Azriel tell you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.</p><p>“I asked you a question,” Elain replied evenly. Rhys stood a little straighter. </p><p>“Elain, I did not make that decision lightly.” </p><p>“Clearly it was light enough for you not to even deign to mention it to me.” </p><p>“Azriel—” </p><p>“Is not my master— nor does he decide whether or not he is worthy of me,” she said with barely restrained anger, “and neither are <em> you </em>.” </p><p>“You live in my house.” </p><p>“And then you are in control of me?” She said, raising an eyebrow, her voice raising with it “what gives you the right? My sister would never treat me this way.” Well, actually, from Feyre's silence, she wasn't sure of that. Feyre looked pained caught between her mate and her sister. “You gave Feyre choice. So why not me? Why don’t I get to choose?” Rhys pressed his lips together. “If I chose— if I chose Lucien, would you somehow find a way to take that from me as well?” Rhys scoffed.</p><p>“Of course not.” </p><p>“Just because your mate bond worked. Just because Nesta’s worked— does <em> not </em> mean that mine does.” Her voice shook and she hated it. “I am <em> not </em> you. Either of you.” Feyre looked to the floor. </p><p>“Lucien is a good—” </p><p>“I don’t care how good he is!” Elain cried. “I don’t care if we are similar. If we are fated to meet— I don’t care! The cauldron has chosen enough for me. Enough has been ripped from me! I do not love him! I do not want him! Why don’t you understand that? Why are you more willing to feel sorry for your <em> friend </em> than your sister?” </p><p>“Elain…” </p><p>“Azriel was the only person who ever looked at me and saw me. He was the only person who treated me like a person— like I wasn’t broken.” She wasn’t trying to restrain her anger now. “And then you ripped him from me as well.” </p><p>“If Lucien took Azriel to a blood duel—” </p><p>“You are still talking about him!” She shouted, “about them— this isn’t about them! By the cauldron, are you even listening to me?” She didn’t even know what a blood duel was— and definitely didn’t know why that could possibly be relevant right now. </p><p>“It could start a war!” He shouted, his chest heaving. Elain stepped back. “Beron is looking for <em> any </em> reason to attack the Night Court— it could start a war.” She stared at him, at Feyre. She felt sick, like a political pawn to be moved at another’s will. All she could feel was that awful cold of cauldron, slowly enveloping her body, taking away everything about herself that she loved. “So you are not to speak to Azriel, you aren’t to meet him in your garden, or in the city. Don’t even look at him if you can help it.” Elain felt the instruction like a slap to the face. </p><p>“Rhysand!” Feyre exclaimed. </p><p>“I won’t have this court go through another war. Not when everyone is weak, not when everything is tentative enough.” His hand curled into a fist and then flattened out. “Do not make this harder for yourself.” Elain stood from her chair, her throat bobbing. </p><p>“I expected more from you,” she looked to Feyre, her sister’s kiss-swollen lips, her wide eyes, “from both of you.” </p><p>She stormed back into her room, tears falling from her eyes down her cheeks. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn’t get enough air, like she was drowning again, hoved down into an ageless dark, cold and alone. She stumbled through the doors to her balcony, her hands clutched to her chest, like she could rip out her own skin and finally let her heart beat freely, without any hindrance, without this weight. </p><p>But Azriel was still there, perched on the banister, ready to fall backwards into the sky. Her breath caught and she just— she just stared at him. The broadness of his shoulders, the contours of his face, the black as night wings, the glimmering siphons on his hands. His hands…  If she could paint the way Feyre could. It would be each of those things, all of them. All of him.</p><p>“He said I can’t talk to you.” Azriel held her gaze, his expression pained, like he was taking a knife to the gut. “That I can’t meet you. That I can’t even look at you.” His shoulders drooped the slightest bit. She bit her lip, and she watched his eyes lower. “I am tired of being a prize for others to fight over.” Azriel pulled his eyes from her lips, looked back into her eyes and it was like something broke in them. Those hazel eyes that could glow like dark gold in the sunlight.  </p><p>“I know.” Of course he did. </p><p>“I’m tired of being alone.” Azriel’s head dipped. </p><p>“I know,” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible. His shadows grew closer, like he was preparing to dissolve into them. Her heart wrenched. </p><p>“Will you still come to more dinners?” Her voice was breaking now, shattering really. “Nyx adores you.” Azriel went stiff. “Cassian and Rhys are your brothers. They wouldn’t care if you wanted to come. It’s— it’s easily passed off.” She couldn’t not see him. To have him in her presence was enough. It would have to be enough. She could make it enough. </p><p>“What I want doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. Elain’s heart was fracturing into pieces. Azriel pushed off the banister, standing to his full height, and he donned some mask of that brutal warrior she saw in the war with Hybern. His shoulders tightened again, his back straightening, his hand at his sides. His wings rustled gently as he spread them. </p><p>“It should matter,” Elain replied, “and if it counts—” She swallowed thickly. “What you want matters to me.” Azriel looked down at her, and took in a slow, deep breath. His hand twitched at his sides. She wanted to take them. She wanted to hold them. Maybe he did too. He curled them into fists. </p><p>“Goodnight, Elain,” he rasped. His wings spreading out fully behind him. They were so beautiful. He was so beautiful. </p><p>She didn’t know how she found it within herself to say, “Goodnight, Azriel.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Writing is def not my strong suit so I hope this holds up hhshshsh</p></blockquote></div></div>
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